Vast Ash
by Conelrad
Summary: A victim of the July Incident thinks about the cause...


Author's Note: A few weeks ago, I was desperately trying to find interesting Trigun fanfiction…something _really_ long and well-written. Well, I searched, and, Low and Behold, found ArkNorth's Trigun: Moon Child story. It dutifully fulfilled both requirements, and I would recommend it to anyone. Well…not small children – it is a bit intense – but almost anyone. What gave me the idea for this story, though, was Chapter 14. It is also entitled "Vast Ash". And in it, Vash says he heard someone after the destruction of July say that his name was short for Vash Ash…hence, this story. Enjoy.

Vast Ash

By Ozymandius Jones

The city is dying; they say…the city is dead. July, most beautiful of the Eight Cities, is gone, turned into a flatlands of ash and rubble; of sand turned to glass.

Who…who could've done this? I sit huddled in a corner of one of the relief tents, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders to preserve my dignity. The blast tore my clothes to shreds…they barely stay on. I hadn't even noticed, until the cavalry member had draped the blanket over my shoulders. I sit in the corner, listening to some of the men talking.

"Yeah, I hear it was that stranger who did it…the one with the long coat."

I frown, trying to remember…the tall man? The one the face of an angel? I had watched him just yesterday morning, playing hide-and seek with Mrs. Nightrow's children...he'd been so gentle…

"His name…well…I hear tell his name is "Vast Ash" on account of what he does…he roams Gunsmoke, murderin' and destroyin'…he leaves a path of destruction behind him, towns he's burned to ashes…"

I've almost had enough, almost get up and yell at the men… But they wouldn't listen to me…me, a young woman just out of girlhood. It couldn't have been that nice man. He'd bought two dozen doughnuts from Blind Nina…everyone knew the old woman needed money, but she was too proud to accept charity. The stranger had overpaid her…

I'm stopped from my mental defenses by a woman cavalry member...would I care to get dressed? Oh, yes, please! It's going on night now…three of the five moons have risen, bathing the smoldering rubble and the sandy desert with odd, silvery-white light, and it's _cold._ I follow the cavalry woman to another tent, leaving the men and their rumors behind. Minutes later I'm in warm clothes, soft slippers on my sore feet…but the tent seems claustrophobic. I can't sleep…heaven knows I tried earlier…all I dreamt about was being trapped in that white hot wave of light. I don't even want to try again. Not tonight, anyway.

The cavalry makes wonderfully strong tents…I can lean my full weight against the canvas and not worry about the tent collapsing behind me. I gaze out across the rubble…Unbidden, the face of the strange, red-coated man rises before my eyes…of him being dog-piled by Tulie and Jaxom and the other neighborhood kids…of him laughing, an easy smile on his face…also unbidden comes the voices of the men, floating on the air…

"He's a demon an' a monster, an' I'd bet my Thomas there'll be a reward out on him by the end of the week. Yep…Vast Ash…"

I shake my head angrily…and freeze. Something is moving, out in that vast rubble-field….something…some_one_. He stands tall in the moonlight; his crazy hair flopped in all directions.

He's carrying someone in his arms. As he draws closer, I can see it's one of the little girls, one of Tulie's friends…he sets her down gently, in a patch of ground clear of the rubble and turns to go. His golden hair has turned silver in the moons' light. He sees me watching him, and in his emerald eyes is a look of heart-shattering pain. He turns to go…I know he is hearing what the men are still saying.

"Death's too good for killers like him."

"They'll hang him, though…won't they?"

"If they catch him? Sure. Don't he deserve it? Vast Ash…pagh!"

As I said…I know he hears…you can see it…the deep sadness etched on an angel's face as he turns; disappearing into the sand and ash that they're claiming _he _made; that they're claiming _he's_ named for. I move to pick up the little girl, maybe the only survivor of my neighborhood, watching the red coat disappear into the shadows.

"God be with you," I can't help but whisper to the poor man; the angel accused of this act of the devil himself. "God be with you, Vash the Stampede."

Fin

Vash the Stampede, July City © 2004, Yasuhiro Nightow

Tulie & Jaxom Nightrow © 2004, S. Thompson

Vast Ash © September 10 2004, S. Thompson a.k.a. O. J. A. Jones


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